


Better Deeds Than Words

by StarsCrackedOpen (Misthia)



Series: Things Carried, Unseen [16]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Best Friends, Comfort/Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Pre-Relationship, Protective Ahsoka Tano, The Force, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misthia/pseuds/StarsCrackedOpen
Summary: Ahsoka reached across the narrow space between them and laid a gentle hand on his upper arm. The touch was simple, the heat of her hand bleeding into his sleeve much like the warmth of her Force presence.Or: In which no words are spoken, because they don't need to be, and a bond is strengthened.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano
Series: Things Carried, Unseen [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839160
Comments: 13
Kudos: 126





	Better Deeds Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> So that last piece was pretty heavy, as well as another one I started that I might not finish because every line breaks my heart — so I decided to finish this one instead. A moment of trust and comfort instead of a meditation on growing up as a soldier.
> 
> I wanted to write the whole piece as one where not a word is spoken. No banter this time, set probably around end of S3/very early S4. Once again, can be seen as deep platonic or pre-relationship, tagged as usual. It was kind of a rush job, so I might need to tweak.
> 
> As ever, I own nothing and make no money from this.

* * *

_“For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.”_

_\- William Shakespeare, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act II, Scene II_

* * *

Anakin knew he was dying.

There was a familiar face contorting in pain as it looked at him, a scream he belatedly recognized as his own, and then he was pinned down, unable to move, surrounded and consumed by fire, and as it tore open his throat and poured into his lungs he couldn’t breathe, _couldn’t breathe_ —

He gasped and jolted, and his eyes opened.

Anakin blinked, hand flying reflexively to his throat and finding it intact. He tried to catch his breath, suddenly precious after the suffocating terror of his dream — and, shaken, it took a minute to recognize where he was:

A rundown apartment in the lower levels of Coruscant surveilling a bounty hunter, due to return to an adjacent building the following day. Right.

Anakin stilled, realizing there was someone next to him. His eyes slid over, and he relaxed a little as he recognized the form.

To his right laid Ahsoka, facing him. She was tangled up in her blanket as usual, snoring softly as she sometimes did (and would never admit to). He carefully shifted, trying not to wake her. Sharing the only bed as they were, Anakin was grateful that at least he’d been spared the sheet-soaking cold sweat that sometimes came with his nightmares. Still on edge, he started one of the old breathing exercises Obi-Wan had made him learn as a child.

He focused on his heartbeat, and gradually it stopped pounding. After a while, he risked closing his eyes again, only to find the images from his nightmare — _vision_ , a dark part of his mind hissed, and he tried to quash it — emblazoned behind his eyelids. His eyes snapped back open and he inhaled sharply.

A small noise beside him and he stilled again, but now Ahsoka was awake. He risked a glance in her direction.

She shifted slightly and looked at him, eyes barely open, and then her brow creased. Anakin winced and tried to drag up his shields, but they felt sluggish and dampened as they sometimes did after his worst vis— _dreams_. He turned his head fully, about to mumble _something_ , but she had clearly already felt what he was trying to suppress seeping through.

Through their bond came a hazy glow — a ripple of unfiltered, sleepy reassurance, warm and fond. Her sleep-glazed, unfocused eyes met his.

Ahsoka reached across the narrow space between them and laid a hand on his upper arm. The touch was simple, her hand bleeding warmth through his sleeve much like the warmth of her Force presence.

Her eyes were still half-lidded, but as soft as her touch and almost luminous in the dim room. There was something in their unguarded look that disarmed him, and then they slid shut. Ahsoka squeezed his arm gently for a moment, one corner of her mouth tugging up as she did.

He shouldn’t have found it as immediately comforting as he did — _he_ was the master, he was supposed to be the one reinforcing _her_ , not the other way around. His head was starting to ache, and Anakin tensed, feeling exposed and vulnerable and _weak_ , and he _hated_ it. He took a breath to steady himself, thinking he should probably get up and acknowledge he wouldn’t sleep anymore tonight —

As if she had felt his turmoil — and she might have, his shielding still felt off — her hand squeezed again, thumb brushing an arc on his sleeve. That same soothing ripple crossed the bond, nothing pitying within it — just another bloom of affection and reassurance. It was unmeasured and unrefined, but felt oddly gentle against his reeling senses.

He unwound fractionally, shoulders relaxing flat against the bed. Still, he hesitated to lean into the bond for this purpose, even offered as it was.

Coruscant’s more dangerous corners waited outside, speeders screeching and half-burned-out neon lights flickering through the cracks in the broken blinds. A faraway siren wailed. He could feel acutely the city outside, spanning the planet — the jumble of so _many_ beings in the Force. In this raw state Anakin felt like he was nine again, new to the ecumenopolis, and it was all too _loud_ , making his head throb harder.

But inside the shabby hideout it was still. In the dark, and quiet, where no one could see or pass judgment, Anakin swallowed his pride and his misgivings and took the comfort for what it was.

Ahsoka was quietly snoring again, a relative island of peace in the planet’s chaos within the Force. Even dimmed by slumber, her hand on his arm reinforced the bond and kept the shimmering thread lit.

Anakin carefully laid his other hand over hers, focusing on that peace, and sinking into the warmth offered him. It blunted the sharpest edges of the cacophony, and the headache dulled a little.

Slowly, he drifted back to sleep, and did not dream.

**_Fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I know I’ve used nightmares before a couple times in this series, but they’re large plot points in Star Wars, so I think it’s fair to revisit.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> As ever, please let me know what you thinK! Love/hate/otherwise. Comments make my day.


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